The End of a Poisonous Marriage
The door to Sylvien’s office opened with a soft click.
“You’ve arrived?”
Canna stepped inside Sylvien Valentino’s office.
“I’m a little early. Is that all right?”
The drafting of the divorce agreement.
Perhaps it was the thrill those words gave her, but Canna had arrived nearly twenty minutes ahead of their appointed time.
“Of course. Please have a seat and wait.”
As soon as she sat on the sofa, a maid approached. Canna couldn’t recall the woman’s name, but her face was familiar.
“Duchess, would you care for some tea?”
Her manner was impeccably polite. The sight of it made Canna fight back a laugh.
“Yes.”
A short while later, the maid returned with a steaming cup of tea. The moment Canna took a sip—
…!
It was salty. Incredibly, unbearably salty. Her tongue burned as if she’d swallowed seawater.
These people still haven’t learned their lesson.
This maid was one of the servants Canna knew all too well. She had served this exact tea to her dozens of times while Juhwa had been in control of the body.
And yet they were still pulling the same stunt.
Josephine must have decided to tighten the reins again.
Well, servants took their cues from their masters.
Canna set the teacup down and glared at the maid. Should she scold her sharply? The woman had probably steeled herself for some kind of punishment…
But suddenly, Canna felt hollow.
No matter how many times I fight this, it never ends.
As long as Josephine’s attitude remained unchanged, the servants would continue to torment her without end.
That was why this divorce was such a blessing.
At that moment, Sylvien took the seat across from her.
“Forgive me for keeping you waiting.”
“Not at all. I came early.”
“You must have been quite eager.”
“Obviously.”
“Then I’m glad I can meet those expectations.”
With those words, Sylvien slid a stack of documents toward her.
“What is this…?”
“The forms that must be submitted to the imperial palace, the Great Temple, and the Supreme Court.”
“……”
He had only returned from Pailon Island yesterday. Had he prepared all of this in that short time?
As always, the man operates like a machine.
It was a familiar sight. Sylvien handled every task he was responsible for with mechanical speed, precision, and efficiency. She had watched him do it throughout their entire marriage.
Why don’t you just marry your work, you cold-hearted bastard.
As Canna scanned the multiple pages, her expression twisted.
“What is this?”
“As you can see. You must write down the reasons for the divorce.”
“No, but… it says to fill an entire page?”
This wasn’t a reflection essay or a school assignment, yet they were dictating the length! Sylvien, however, simply turned the page with an indifferent air.
“I have already completed mine.”
“……”
“How would you like to proceed, Lady Canna? Will you write it here and now, or…”
“Right now. I’ll write it here.”
“Very well.”
Sylvien offered her a fountain pen and ink. Their fingertips brushed as she took them. His skin was cool, rough with calluses.
I have more than enough to write about.
Canna focused and began filling the page.
Conflict with her mother-in-law, the servants’ insubordination, her husband’s indifference—there was no shortage of material. In fact, there was far too much.
Sylvien sat across from her, quietly watching.
Sunlight poured into the room at its zenith, making his black hair gleam as if it had melted the rays themselves. When a lock of Canna’s hair slipped across her cheek, her slender white fingers tucked it behind her ear.
A pure white pearl earring swayed from her exposed earlobe. He had never seen it before.
Yet Sylvien, who possessed considerable knowledge of gemstones, immediately recognized its extraordinary value.
His gaze slowly traveled downward. Past the smooth line of her neck, it settled on the necklace that shimmered with a brilliant blue light.
He knew that necklace. It had been the highest bid at a recent auction held for the nobility.
The very necklace that had fallen into Kallen Addis’s hands now rested against Canna’s throat.
Sylvien’s brows drew together.
And that wasn’t all.
The violet silk dress dyed with an exorbitantly expensive pigment, the platinum bracelet encircling her slender wrist—every single item was of the highest quality.
Worn clumsily, they would have overwhelmed the wearer until only the jewels remained visible.
Yet on Canna, they were merely ornaments that added to her radiance. She was a woman who eclipsed even the most dazzling treasures.
Sylvien knew it wasn’t simply because of her beautiful face.
He let out a low breath and lifted his gaze again. When his eyes reached the small ear and the hair tucked behind it—
Ah. The strands slipped free once more.
“……?”
Sylvien lowered his head. His fingers had risen slightly.
He was stunned at where that hand had been heading. He calmly returned it to his knee.
“Tea.”
A sudden thirst overtook him. He ordered the waiting maid, and once she had left, he spoke to Canna.
“You claimed you had little to say, yet you seem to be finishing rather quickly.”
“Ah, well. There’s simply too much resentment bottled up inside me.”
“Is that so?”
“Honestly, if I really put my mind to it, I could write ten more pages.”
“……”
“No, ten? I could easily fill a hundred. There is no end to the reasons I want to be rid of you.”
Canna spoke curtly, her pen scratching fiercely across the paper.
“……”
Then she suddenly noticed that the temperature around them had plummeted.
She cautiously raised her eyes.
“…What?”
Sylvien sat perfectly straight, chin resting on his hand, staring at her.
His eyes were not smiling.
Only his lips curved upward.
“Was your life with me truly that horrific?”
“Are you really asking because you don’t know?”
“Yes.”
“It was horrific. It was the worst. It was the most terrible mistake of my entire life.”
Canna spoke in a low, composed voice.
“It was hell, Sylvien.”
For the first time, she spoke his name.
Yes, the very first time. And as always, the impact of a first was immense.
Sylvien’s eyes narrowed sharply.
Sylvien.
The way Canna pronounced it had a strangely pleasant ring.
At the same time, he understood completely.
She meant every word.
Sylvien opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He couldn’t even guess what he had been about to say.
He quietly examined the gritty, sand-like emotion that had lodged itself in his chest—an unidentifiable foreign substance. He identified it quickly.
It was displeasure.
“This marriage was something you wanted.”
Canna truly desired this divorce.
“Did you actually expect the kind of life shared by couples bound by love?”
“I expected to be treated like a human being.”
“And you?”
“Pardon?”
“Did you ever treat me like a human being?”
Sylvien smiled coldly and continued.
“I believed I was nothing more than a rope to save you from your miserable life.”
Canna bit her lip and glared at him.
As infuriating as it was, she could somewhat understand why he would say such a thing.
Juhwa’s love had been blind.
So excessively blind that she saw nothing but her own affection. Her passion had always mattered more than Sylvien’s feelings or opinions.
Theirs had begun as a contractual relationship, but Juhwa had changed the terms. She had demanded more.
Relentlessly. For seven long years.
The suffering during that time had not been hers alone.
Sylvien could not have been happy either.
Canna had no intention of defending Juhwa on this matter. If he had said no, she should have backed off.
From Sylvien’s perspective, it must have felt like living with a stalker in his own home.
But did that mean Sylvien bore no fault? A scornful smile flickered across Canna’s lips.
“So you ignored me? You didn’t care whether I lived or died?”
Juhwa had been abused in this mansion. That was why she had clung to Sylvien even more desperately. She had believed he was the only one who could save her from that torment.
If Sylvien had shown her even the slightest bit of attention, she would not have suffered so greatly.
“Whether there was love or not, you were my husband. I was your wife. You should have at least shown basic human decency.”
There was no justification for standing by while his wife was beaten by his mother and tormented by the servants.
“You didn’t care if I died, did you?”
That day when she had been thrown into her room alone, her calf nearly torn apart.
If he had truly left her like that, she might actually have died.
“Good relationship or bad, you were still my husband. I came to this house trusting only in you. So you should not have abandoned me to die.”
Resentment boiled up from deep within her chest.
Juhwa’s memories, Juhwa’s emotions—they felt so vivid she could almost touch them.
The hardships she had endured in this body, the loneliness that had nearly driven her mad, all of it felt like her own in this moment.
“A rope for salvation, you say?”
A bitter laugh escaped her.
“Of course. I was in hell. And with one gesture from you, I could have left that hell behind.”
A soul writhing in the flames of hell looking up at heaven and praying for salvation—was that truly such a great sin?
Yet for her, for Juhwa, there had been no such savior.
She had been forced to save herself.
Adolescence. Juhwa had been a seventeen-year-old girl thrown into hell during the most turbulent years of her life. She had only just entered high school.
The villains surrounding her were monsters who could kill without batting an eye. How was a girl like that supposed to endure them?
Poor Juhwa. Unlucky Juhwa.
To have fallen into such a wretched life.
The pain that should have been Canna’s had been forced onto her instead.
In that instant, the guilt was so overwhelming she could barely breathe.
She had slipped into Juhwa’s warm family, basked freely in their sunlight, greedily absorbed every nutrient, and bloomed into the person she was today. She had grown strong.
But what about Juhwa during that same time?
In a strange world without mother or father, her surroundings must have been filled with nothing but poison. She had breathed only toxic air thick with malice.
It was an environment designed to break her.
“To you, my suffering must have seemed trivial.”
For some reason, the corners of her eyes burned red.
“You are a man who does great things. A great man who protects the Western Continent from the Black Fog and slaughters monsters. To someone like you, the bullying suffered by a woman like me, the pain endured inside this beautiful mansion, must have seemed utterly insignificant.”
There is no such thing as small pain in this world.
Even if it looked trivial in his eyes, to Juhwa it had been a pain that shook her entire world.
“That’s right. To me, you were a savior. Even though you have done nothing but stand by and watch all this time, you were still my savior.”
The guilt, the pity, the sharp emotions regarding Juhwa tore at her heart. It hurt. It hurt so much that tears welled up. One fell, splashing onto her cheek.
“Because I loved you.”
It was the truth. She had endured because of that love.
“I loved you so much that I didn’t want to die.”
Maybe today he would look at her. Maybe he would call her name. Maybe he would smile at her kindly.
As foolish as it was, that pathetic hope had kept Juhwa alive.
That was why she could never let go of that love. The moment she abandoned it, there would be no light or hope left in her life.
Without that love, Juhwa would have made the same choice Canna once had. She would have wanted to escape this horrific life through death.
When the pain Juhwa had felt in this body surged forth all at once, every cell in Canna’s body screamed in response.
“So do not distort the feelings I once held. Because I truly loved you.”
Canna squeezed her eyes shut. Her hot, ragged breath trembled. Feeling another tear slide down, she quickly wiped it away with her hand.
“I know I was a nuisance to you. It must have been difficult for you as well. I kept approaching even after you told me to stop. How awful it must have been.”
Canna opened her eyes.
“We were a bad match from the beginning.”
She looked at Sylvien.
His face was one of complete speechlessness.
“So let’s end it now.”